


Tokyo Drift

by Becca_Smash



Category: Tokyo Demons Series - Lianne Sentar
Genre: F/M, Gen, M/M, Multi, OT3, Pacific Rim AU, Polyamory
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-08-26
Updated: 2017-04-25
Packaged: 2018-08-11 03:06:44
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,964
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7873771
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Becca_Smash/pseuds/Becca_Smash
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ayase Watanabe is a trainee pilot for Kaiju Response Japan, called in when an accident grounds the pilots of Red Ranger Flash.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Pachitastic](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pachitastic/gifts), [Lianne S (maggie_danger)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/maggie_danger/gifts).



> I love Pacific Rim AUs, so I thought, why not do one with my favorite emotionally constipated supernatural teenagers?
> 
> Note: Nobody has any psychic, malum, or bee-related powers in this AU--they're all just baseline humans, though the Drift works similarly to psychic powers in a few of the relationships.

Ayase tugged at her uniform collar, hoping she looked okay.

The hallways of Kaiju Response Japan were nothing like she’d expected--grimy, with exposed pipes and wires and workers shouting at each other in three languages. The pilot training academy where she’d lived and studied for the past two years was all white walls and pristine military order, and she’d expected more of the same from the place they’d all been training to staff. She’d seen pictures of the Jaegers themselves, of course--she trained in a simulator every day and studied their inner workings in class, so she knew the machines inside and out even if she’d never seen one in person. But no one was allowed in the actual building without good reason.

The emergency call had come in at 0330. She’d been shocked awake by an alarm and orders for to report to the shuttles, and barely had enough time to throw on her clothes before rushing down to the vehicle bays.

And now, two hours later, she was sitting in a line of folding chairs with eight of her classmates in a hallway full of bustling people, still clueless about why they’d been brought there at all.

She stifled a yawn.

Someone nearby cleared their throat--Ayase’s eyes darted to a young woman holding a clipboard.

“Sorry for the wait! Things have been hectic this morning!” she said as she strode over to them. The students on either side of her straightened--Ayase tried to subtly come to attention.

“We’ll be seeing you one at a time,” she continued. “You’ll be speaking to several members of our staff. First…Keiko Aihara, come with me please?” 

The girl next to Ayase scowled as she got to her feet. “What’s this about, anyway?” she asked. “I didn’t think we were even allowed in this building.”

“Well...things have changed,” the woman replied. “You’ll find out soon.”

Keiko walked off, and a heavy door closed behind her. 

Minutes dragged on as Ayase’s classmates were called away one by one. 

Ayase let her eyes follow the people rushing past. She had no idea how busy things usually were here, but the people she saw were definitely moving with urgency. Men and women in uniform, work clothes or business attire rushed back and forth, any conversations hushed and serious.

_ Something’s wrong here,  _ she thought.  _ I don’t know why they’d need a bunch of recruits, though. _

“Ayase Watanabe?” The woman with the clipboard called from the doorway.

Ayase followed, and the heavy door slammed shut behind them.

The woman led Ayase down twisting corridors. She called out a few warnings--”Watch your step here! Careful of the wires!”--but other than that was quiet, and Ayase didn’t press her. She’d been in the military long enough to know that asking questions at a time like this usually just singled you out as a troublemaker. Better to watch and listen and piece things together yourself.

“All right, here we are!”

They were in front of a nondescript metal door. The woman paused with her hand on the door handle and turned to Ayase.

“Miss Watanabe? Um…” She paused, like she wanted to say something and then thought better of it. 

“Good luck,” she said simply, and pushed the door open, stepping aside so Ayase could enter alone.

The door shut heavily behind her.

The room Ayase found herself in was small and dim, with no windows. It was cluttered with worn furniture--patched armchair, scuffed desk, a lamp with a torn shade--and the walls were grimy with age. Ayase took a few cautious steps forward before she noticed the young man sitting behind the desk.

He was slumped over in his chair, chin resting on his chest and face hidden by unruly black hair.

After a few moments, he seemed to notice her--he raised his head and met her gaze with sunken eyes.

Kadoyuki Yoshimoto.

Ayase recognized him immediately. Everyone in the academy--no, everyone in Japan--knew his face from countless news reports, propaganda pieces, and profiles of the great heroes of the Kaiju Wars. Pilot of Red Ranger Flash, son of the famous Yoshimoto family that’d funded and helped design the Japanese Jaegers, youngest pilot to ever see active duty. 

He looked...smaller than she’d expected. 

He nodded at the seat across the desk from him--an invitation to sit down. She sat, and looked up at him, wondering where this was going.

He didn’t say anything. Just sat there, staring.

It was uncomfortable. She wondered if she was supposed to start, to ask questions, or...what? She didn’t even know why she’d been brought here, how was she supposed to lead this meeting--or interview, or whatever--when she didn’t even know what it was about? Her eyes flicked around the room, checking the shadows for anyone else or even just a sign about what this room was used for, but she saw nothing, and no other people arrived to get things started. Seconds dragged into minutes, and each time she glanced his way his eyes bore into her until she jerked her gaze elsewhere.

Ayase was annoyed. She was used to following orders without asking questions, or being told to do things that didn’t make sense at the time, but this was extreme. There was clearly something going on at the base, and for whatever reason they needed her and her classmates enough that they’d shuttled them all here with no warning and broken normal security protocol. She had noticed a small camera in one corner--was she being watched from outside? Was this some kind of messed up test…?

A test?

Now that she thought about it, there was only one reason she could think of for a trainee like her to be brought for one-on-one time with an established pilot. 

A drift compatibility test.

The traditional test was sparring--Jaeger training included hand-to-hand combat and martial arts, so it was a skill almost all pilot candidates had in common and were comfortable with. But the fighting itself wasn’t necessary to the test. It had much more to do with seeing how well the candidates worked together--how similar their thought processes were and how quickly they could follow each other’s non-verbal cues. Ayase had heard of pilots who’d discovered their drift compatibility through dancing, video games, even jazz improvisation. And established pilots, who were used to drifting and knew what they needed from a partner, were more likely to have some weird way of testing out a new co-pilot.

Wait, did that mean he needed a new partner?

What happened to his current partner, what’s his name...Sachi-ppi? The teen magazines would have a conniption if something happened to that guy.

Ayase scowled. She couldn’t be in the running to be his new partner...could she? She wasn’t even due to graduate from training for another three months, assuming she passed all her exams. And she did fine in her classes, but she didn’t exactly stand out--she was quiet, got her work done on time, and did well enough in physical training and coursework to get by with no trouble, but not well enough to stand out as exceptional. She’d always kept to herself and tried to fly under the radar.

She felt safer that way.

But...this could be her chance, right? To leave the school where she’d felt wrong from day one. To finally,  _ finally  _ have a chance to fight the battle her whole life had felt like it was leading up to.

She looked up, and met Kadoyuki’s gaze.

Ayase still wasn’t sure what form this test was supposed to take. At first, she tried to keep her eyes from blinking, in case it was meant to be a staring contest--but it seemed like he was letting himself blink normally, so she gave that up as soon as her eyes started to water. Instead, she tried to study his expression. She’d noticed that he seemed exhausted when she first entered the room, but there was...an intensity under that. She thought she could read sadness, frustration...guilt? 

She couldn't remember holding eye contact with anyone this long before in her life. Part of her squirmed in discomfort at the attention. She wondered what he saw in her face--she thought she was fairly good at hiding her emotions behind a serious mask, but as far as she knew she’d never faced this level of scrutiny. She tried to push the discomfort back into the pit of her stomach and focus on him.

One of his eyebrows raised almost imperceptibly in a question--she found herself mirroring the motion before she even realized she had. Feeling awkward about the imitation, she scowled in concentration, trying to blank her expression--only to notice a matching scowl on Kadoyuki's face. 

Suddenly, she couldn't help but feel ridiculous. What were they even trying to communicate? The corners of her eyes crinkled as she tried to keep from smiling...and she was shocked to see the same private joke playing out on Kadoyuki’s face. Was that the ghost of a smile? 

Finally, Kadoyuki looked away.

“Thank you,” he said quietly. 

It was clearly a dismissal. Ayase rose out of her chair and walked back to the door, feeling off-kilter and strangely drained. 

When she glanced behind her before leaving the room, Kadoyuki was staring right back. This time, he jerked his gaze away, like he was trying to hide that he was watching her.

When she walked back out into the hallway, the woman who’d led her there was still waiting. 

“Um, how did it go?” She asked. 

Ayase stared at her, unsure how to answer.

“Uh...fine…” she murmured.

The woman led Ayase to a lounge where the rest of her classmates were waiting. She slipped into the room and found an old armchair in the corner, and let the sound of her classmates talking wash over her. 

“When they brought me in there with Yoshimoto-san, I thought there was going to be some kind of meeting? Maybe they were gonna speed us through graduation, or put together a new pilot course or something.”

“Did he say anything to you?”

“No! I kept trying to talk to him, but he just sat there!”

“Do you think that was some kind of psych test? Like, to see if we’re suitable to be pilots or something?”

“What the hell do you think they were testing? Nah, this must’ve been a mistake. Maybe Yoshimoto was supposed to be interviewing us but just decided not to. My cousin was a tech here a while ago--she said he’s kind of unstable.”

“Can’t be too unstable considering his kill count.”

“Yeah, whatever. Just wait until I’m a real pilot--his record isn’t gonna last much longer.”

Ayase tuned out her classmates’ chatter. The early morning was catching up with her, and she didn’t usually get time to herself like this during the day. She sunk back into her chair and let her eyes drift closed. 

A gentle touch on her arm roused her. The woman who’d led her through the corridors earlier was by her side.

“Watanabe-san?” she said gently. “Come with me, please.”

This time, as the woman led Ayase through the corridors, she kept glancing over. A few times, she almost started to speak, but then seemed to stop herself. When she caught Ayase looking back at her, she smiled sheepishly.

“I’m Emi, by the way,” she said. “Emi Honda. It’s nice to meet you. And I’ll...well, you should probably talk to the commander first.”

Emi rapped her knuckles on a nondescript wooden door. 

“Come in,” someone said from inside. Emi opened the door and nodded Ayase in alone. 

The woman behind the desk was older, with salt-and-pepper hair and a small, trim frame. Ayase recognized her from press conferences--Commander Nakajima, head of Kaiju Response Japan.

It was seeming more and more likely that Ayase’s original guess was correct. Why else would the commander of the project herself want to speak to a trainee? This must be some kind of continuation of the test from this morning--an interview, or a technical quiz? Ayase’s stomach buzzed with eagerness and anxiety as she sat down across the desk from the older woman.

“Watanabe-san,” the woman said quietly. “I have an assignment for you.”

She sighed and flipped through a file folder.

“I assume you understand the significance of your meeting with Yoshimoto-kun this afternoon?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Red Ranger Flash needs a new copilot. Yoshimoto-kun found you the most suitable of your classmates.”

Ayase sat up straighter, shaky with surprise. She was expecting some kind of formal interview or discussion--not jumping right to assigning a pilot. And...to be honest, she’d never expected to be chosen.

She nodded, not trusting her voice at the moment.

“To be frank,” the woman continued, “we don't have time to coddle you. We need our Jaeger force at full strength as soon as possible. Your training record is...underwhelming, but when it come at piloting a Jaeger, compatibility is everything, so we give the opinions of the pilots themselves the most weight by far.”

“Some of our higher officials don’t understand this. They talk about pilot candidates as if they’re interchangeable, as though we could  _ assign  _ someone to a Jaeger based on their test scores and create a working pilot pair. They’ve never experienced the Drift.”

“So we’re going to prove that it’s worth it to honor a pilot’s choice. Tomorrow morning at 0800, you’ll be performing your first Drift. I suggest you spend the evening preparing yourself however they taught you to at that school of yours.”

Nakajima turned back to the papers in her hand.

“Obedient and dull,” she read, “with occasional flashes of brilliance--rare enough that they can’t seem to agree whether they were real or just dumb luck. That’s how your trainers describe you.” She gave Ayase a long, cold look. “I hope, for all our sakes, that you can find a way to tap into that brilliance tomorrow.”

She snapped the folder shut.

“If you have any objections or concerns, I suggest you keep them to yourself. Your country--no, your  _ world _ \--needs you now, and I expect you to do your duty.”

The older woman’s stare seemed to dare Ayase to talk back. Ayase kept her mouth shut--she had no idea what she even wanted to say. More than anything, she wanted a dark corner to herself to think this through. She looked away.

When she glanced back at Nakajima, the woman looked almost...disappointed? Maybe she was proving herself  _ obedient and dull  _ by not talking back.

“Dismissed,” Nakajima said pointedly. Ayase bowed and marched out the door on autopilot. 

As soon as the door closed behind her, Ayase slumped against the wall and let out the breath she felt like she’d been holding since Nakajima first started talking. 

“So...she asked you?”

Ayase hadn’t even noticed that Emi was still there. She scrambled to stand up straight and blank her facial expression.

The woman was watching Ayase with obvious concern. 

“Yeah,” Ayase muttered, though she couldn't help but think that “asked” was pretty far from the truth. 

Emi gestured Ayase away from the commander’s door. 

“Sorry I couldn't give you more of a heads-up, but you know how it is, so much is classified that it's better not to start a conversation you can't finish. Anyway, I'm sure you'll want to meet Kadoyuki-kun for real soon, and we’ll have to get you fitted for combat gear and new uniforms...I'm, well, I'm officially personnel aid for Red Ranger Flash, so if you need anything, I'm the one to ask. Now, they're starting you right away, so unfortunately there won't be time for you to go back to your dorm...but would you like to send a message to any of your school friends?”

Emi paused--it took Ayase a full half a minute to realize that she needed to reply. 

“Uh...no. No thank you.”

“Well, what about sending someone back to your dorm? Are there any personal items you’d like us to fetch for you?”

“I'm okay. Although…”

“What do you need?”

“Could someone please return my library books for me?”

Emi looked like she was holding herself back from saying something again--she was a pretty transparent person, Ayase could already tell. It was odd, being around someone who seemed to actually  _ want  _ her to succeed. Maybe it’d be okay to ask some questions.

“Emi-san? You sound like you’re sure I’m going to be here for a long time...but Nakajima-san doesn’t think I’ll make it. As a pilot, I mean.”

“I know not everyone is behind you, but...I’ve known Kado-kun for a long time. He normally goes with what other people ask him to do--it’s extremely rare for him to really fight for something he wants. But he insisted that you were the best partner for him. I can’t imagine he’d put his foot down like that unless he was sure.” 

“Oh...okay.” Ayase frowned. She suddenly felt incredibly tired.

“Here we are!” Emi finally exclaimed. They were standing in front of yet another nondescript door, though shoes and homey touches all down the corridor made it clear that this was a residential area. Emi fished a key out of her pocket and pushed open the door, revealing a small, neat room furnished with some bare, boxy furniture--bed, bureau, desk. 

“Oh...it’s just mine,” Ayase said without thinking. She glanced at Emi, who had that look on her face again. “I mean...it’s a single. I always had a roommate before.” 

“Yep! So...just make yourself comfortable. You’ve had a long day so far, so I thought you might want to rest for a while before dinner? Feel free to buzz me if you need anything--just hit 3-2-3 and star on the intercom and I’ll be right there. Anyway...is there anything else before I leave you?”

Ayase shook her head. “No, I’m all set...thank you.”

She let the door shut behind her and flopped onto the bed. For a few long minutes she just stared at the blank ceiling above her and tried to stop her heart from racing--she hadn’t even noticed how hard it was pounding in her chest. 

The captain had told her to prepare for the drift, but she didn't even really know what that meant. She'd been paired off to spar with every other member of her cohort at some point or other, while trainers with clipboards watched and took notes and usually looked disappointed with what they were seeing. But that was still just looking for compatible pairs. They'd brought in pilots occasionally to talk to them, but nobody ever had that good an explanation for what it was like. Everyone knew it involved communicating mind-to-mind, but beyond that pilots tended to speak in metaphors with knowing glances to their partners. Some of them spoke about it in reverent, almost religious terms.

Honestly, Ayase hadn’t given it that much thought, because she’d never expected to find a partner. She'd always known that being a loner introvert in a drift program was a bad idea--not that she'd ever figured out how to stop.

There was a sudden commotion on the other side of the door.

“Seriously, I'm fine, you don't have to--”

“Please, sit back down--careful!!”

“You really don’t have to--”

More shuffling, then someone rapped on the door. Ayase was already on her feet--she yanked the door open.

There was a tall young man on the other side of the door, wearing glasses, hospital-issued pajama pants and a robe. One arm was in a sling and he seemed unsteady on his feet--there was an orderly with a wheelchair behind him who’d clearly been arguing with him just a moment before--but the moment his eyes locked with hers his face lit up in a wide grin.

“You must be Watanabe-san!”

She looked closer, and recognition struck.

“Sachi-ppi?”

His face fell. 

“Oh god, not that interview again...uh, you can just call me Sachi.  _ Please,  _ just call me Sachi.”

That was...really familiar for someone Ayase had just met, but she didn't want to argue, especially after she'd apparently offended him. 

“Okay...Sachi.”

His cheerful expression returned.

“I heard that they had another pilot coming in, and I know how they are with newbies--Nakajima-san isn't exactly cuddly.”

Ayase felt the corner of her mouth twitch. “Yeah, that's...accurate.”

The orderly chose that moment to grip Sachi’s arm again.

“All right, Sachi-kun, you've met her. Now, let's get you back to bed--you really aren't supposed to be up yet.”

“Seriously, I’m fine!” Sachi said. “And I need to talk to Watanabe-san! In private!” He turned to Ayase. “Is that okay?”

“Y-yeah, sure,” Ayase stammered. “Do you want to come in?”

“Thanks,” he said as he strode past her into the room before the orderly could stop him. 

As soon as the door shut behind him and hid him from view, his shoulders slumped like it had taken all his energy just to get through the door. He sat heavily on the single chair and sighed deeply. 

“Sorry about all this…” he said vaguely. For a long moment, he stared into space, then suddenly snapped back into focus. “For everything, I mean. That’s why I wanted to talk to you. You got dragged out here, jerked around and tested without any warning and then lectured by Nakajima-san...I know how it is here, nobody else was going to think about how unfair they're being to you. So I wanted to at least check in and see if you had any questions, or just wanted to talk...I mean, this wouldn’t have happened at all if I hadn’t…” He lapsed into silence for a moment, then seemed to catch himself again. “S-so! Is there anything you want to know?”

Ayase looked him over, taking in the sling, the drifting eyes and the pained-looking smile.

“...are you sure you should be out of bed?”

Sachi rolled his eyes. 

“I’m fine, I promise! It’s not like I’m trying to run off to battle, I just want to have a simple conversation with the girl who’s replacing me--” he cut himself off, looking guilty.

“...I'm replacing you?”

Sachi rubbed at his temples.

“Yeah,” he replied, tentative. “I...I screwed up. The doctors don't think I can fight for a while, and they can't have Red Ranger Flash down right now, so they...found a replacement.” His eyes trailed away from her and onto a random spot on the floor, and he fell silent again.

“S-sorry,” Ayase muttered, feeling awkward.

Sachi’s attention snapped back to her again. “Hey, you’ve got nothing to be sorry about! Ugh, I came here to try to help you out, not dump my problems on you...so, anyway! Do you have any questions about the drift tomorrow? Have you ever drifted with anyone before?”

“No, never…”

“Huh. It's hard to talk about the drift with someone who’s never done it, to be honest. Hell, it's hard to talk about it in general...I guess...sometimes it's like talking mind-to-mind, only not with words, but at the same time it's like you  _ are  _ the other person...or like you're some weird hybrid person with two pasts and twice the brain power and an enormous robot body.” He smiled at her. “But that'll make more sense once you've done it yourself. For tomorrow...well, I’d tell you just to stay calm, but that's probably the most useless advice ever.” 

An uncomfortable look crossed his face. Ayase stayed silent, watching and waiting for him to continue.

“I guess...you've got to come to terms with the fact that you won't be able to hide anything. If there's something in your head you're embarrassed about, or ashamed of, or something traumatic that you try not to think about…” Ayase cringed involuntarily--Sachi met her gaze and nodded. “Whatever your brain went to when I mentioned all that stuff? It's probably coming out tomorrow. More experienced pilots can learn to hide things sometimes, but for your first drift it's going to be hard enough just to maintain the connection.”

“And the only way to get through it is to be okay with that, and hope that all the stuff you've been through is the kind that your partner can live with--and the other way around. What usually kills the drift is rejection--if you push your partner away because you're embarrassed about what he’s going to see, or because the way he thinks and reacts to things is so different from you that you can't empathize.”

“If I've got to  _ empathize  _ with Yoshimoto-san to make this work, I wish they'd let me talk to him before.” Ayase met Sachi’s gaze. “Can you tell me anything about him?”

“Oh man, you want a rundown on Kado...uh, well. To be totally honest, they might be keeping you apart tonight on purpose--he doesn't always make the best first impression.” Sachi scratched the back of his head. “Not that he's mean or anything, just quiet and kind of aloof...and before you really know him, he can come off as cold. But he's an incredible pilot, and a really loyal friend. And he knows how hard things are for a pilot just starting out, so I'm sure he's going to guide you through it and help you any way he can. That's what he did with me, anyway.”

Sachi trailed off again. He opened his mouth a few times like he wanted to speak but thought better of it. Finally, he sighed.

“Listen, there’s one more thing I wanted to tell you...and it’s tied to why I got taken off duty. There's been something really... _ off _ about Kado lately. He's always been much better than me at hiding things when we're drifting, and I know he went through some bad stuff when he was younger, so I’m usually careful not to bring up anything that would make him upset while we’re in the drift together. But a few days ago, we were on our way back to base, and when he wouldn't let me see what was wrong, I just... _ pushed.  _ I pushed him too hard and I got caught up in a...a really bad memory from when he was a little kid.”

Sachi seemed to choke on the words, and Ayase was shocked to see tears in the corners of his eyes.

“...are you ok?” she asked gently.

“Y-yeah, of course,” he said, rubbing at his eyes with his sleeve. “I don't want to tell you too many details, since thinking about it tomorrow might bring it up again...but in the memory, Kado broke his arm. And now…” He gestured, clearly frustrated, at the arm in the sling. “My arm is fine, physically. I got kinda banged up in the fighting, but nothing major--nothing that should keep me off duty more than a couple days. But my brain thinks my arm is broken, and we haven't figured out a way to fix it.”

“Oh...I didn't know that could happen,” Ayase blurted. “I mean, I'm sorry about your arm, just...I never heard of someone getting hurt like that.”

“It's...it’s not common, but this kind of thing does happen sometimes. Linking your mind to someone else’s is more dangerous than they tell you at first.” He laughed humorlessly. “Big surprise, right?”

Ayase raised an eyebrow. “That the Drift is dangerous, or that there's a lot they don't tell us?” 

Sachi actually smiled wryly at that. “Both. Definitely both. You’d think all the layers of secrecy wouldn't be needed once you're actually a pilot, but if anything, there's more information hanging annoyingly just out of reach.” He rolled his eyes. “‘Cause it's not like knowing more about our enemies and overall strategy would help with battle tactics or anything, right?”

“Mm.”

They both trailed off into silence, and Sachi’s head drooped again. 

“A-anyway, I should probably get back before they send hospital security after me. They get pretty... _ intense _ when you don't stay in bed like a good little invalid.”

“Okay,” Ayase replied. “Um, do you need a hand getting back?”

“Nah, I’m fine. I’ll see you later, okay?” He pushed himself out of the chair, then wobbled dangerously.

Ayase didn’t say anything as she watched Sachi stumble his way to the door, but when she opened it for him, she followed him outside. The orderly was gone, though he’d left the wheelchair--which Sachi ignored to walk unsteadily down the hall. Ayase fell in beside him.

He glanced over.

“You don’t have to come, really.”

“...I wanted some air anyway.”

They walked on in silence. Sachi’s eyes were focused on the floor, and he shuffled forward slowly, occasionally touching the wall to steady himself. Ayase wondered if he was on painkillers, or concussed--she walked slowly at his side, not touching him, but prepared to catch him if he stumbled. 

“Sachi,” someone said from down the hall.

It was Yoshimoto-san. 

Sachi froze, looking stricken. Yoshimoto-san approached slowly, cautiously, almost like he was afraid they’d attack him when he got close. He raised a hand to touch Sachi’s good arm, but stopped before he made contact.

“You should be in bed,” he said quietly. 

“Y-yeah…” Sachi muttered. “I-I’m going back now.” 

They both paused for a long moment, just looking at each other. There was something so  _ raw  _ about their expressions, the pain and exhaustion on Sachi’s face and the uncertainty on Yoshimoto-san’s. Ayase wondered if she should slip away--watching them made her feel like a voyeur--but she was almost afraid to draw attention to herself by moving.

Yoshimoto-san’s hand came up again, and he carefully laid it on Sachi’s arm. 

Sachi seemed to come back to life at the touch. His body sagged, but his mouth quirked up into a half smile.

“I’ve missed you, Kado. It’s been...it’s been a crappy couple days.”

Yoshimoto-san seemed to relax, too, and he pushed under Sachi’s arm to support him. 

His eyes locked on Ayase. She almost jumped at the sudden attention--she quickly schooled her face blank, and was surprised at the flash of panic that seemed to cross his face, too. 

She wondered if he was as nervous about tomorrow as she was.

He bowed his head politely at her. “Thank you for helping Sachi, Watanabe-san,” he said. “I’ll bring him back to the infirmary. And I’ll...see you tomorrow.”

“See you tomorrow,” she replied quietly.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's mind meld time. Prepare for screw-ups, angst, and exactly as many awkward sex thoughts as you'd expect from two people trying their best not to think of anything embarrassing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Note: I did zero research on how the Drift works in actual Pacific Rim canon, because I do what I want.

Ayase shut her eyes as they strapped her into the pilot’s rig. She breathed deep to steady herself, trying to ignore the uncomfortable trapped feeling and the technicians hovering around her.

She knew that if she opened her eyes and looked to her left, she’d be able to see glimpses of Kadoyuki through the wires and beams of the cockpit. They’d only exchanged a single look and a nod before they were ushered into their respective places, but honestly, talking seemed pointless now--better to just skip straight to the mindmeld and let that do the work.

She still didn’t really know what to expect, and--unsurprisingly--lying awake all night worrying hadn’t given her any new insight. She tried to still her thoughts as much as she could, since the worst case scenarios her brain kept throwing at her really weren’t helping.

Honestly, she just wanted to get it over with at this point. Then maybe she could get a real night of sleep.

Finally, with one last tightening of the uncomfortable harness, the techs stepped out and the mechanical locks whirred as the cockpit sealed itself. She gripped at the controls, reminding herself that she _could_ get out if she had to, she just needed to be patient…

“Red Ranger Flash, you ready?” a man’s voice said over the comms--the accent sounded American, though a little different from what she usually heard on TV.

“Ready,” Kadoyuki replied, and Ayase echoed him a moment later, trying to sound steady and confident.

“Neural connection in five, four, three, two…”

Blank.

Ayase tried to open her eyes--but there was nothing to see. Closed or open didn’t seem to make a difference, she couldn’t even tell if she’d actually opened them at all. The hum of the machines and the comm chatter had gone quiet.

The itchy spot on her arm was gone...because her arm was gone. Her body was gone. She was a floating, disconnected mind, drifting aimlessly, connected to nothing.

That was when she started to panic. For what could’ve been an instant or an hour, she flailed in the darkness, trying to find something, _anything,_ to anchor herself to.

_Watanabe-san._

She latched onto her name, spoken? thought? somewhere nearby. She followed it, reaching out, trying to wrap her mind around the idea of _finding something_ in a place with no physical locations, of grabbing onto something without a body.

_The metaphors help,_ the not-voice told her. _Give your mind something it understands._

_Okay,_ she tried to think back, unsure whether she was communicating or not. She thought she felt an acknowledgement a moment later, but she couldn’t be sure.

She tried to picture the room where they’d first met--the rundown office where they’d had the staring contest that started it all. She couldn’t remember the details, really, but she remembered the chair she’d sat in, the camera in the corner, the worn desk. She tried to imagine herself sitting in the chair, tried to feel her weight pressing into it, the pressure of her hands resting in her lap.

She noticed the moment he caught on--the vague details of the room filled in by someone who clearly knew it better than she did.

When she looked back across the table, he was sitting there, looking solid and real.

_Uh, hi..._ she thought at him, then cringed a little. It seemed like she should be saying something more meaningful for their first Drift communication.

_Good idea, using a place we both know,_ he replied. His avatar was frozen in place, but she thought she could feel him looking around the room anyway.

_What now…?_ she tried to ask.

_We try to make the connection stronger, somehow. Don’t know how yet. It’s mostly trial and error--same thing won’t work for different people._

“Red Ranger Flash, status report,” the voice from before echoed around them both, somehow cutting through the quiet of their shared mental space.

_Idea… do you know that voice?_ Kadoyuki asked.

_No…_

_I do. See if you can remember who he is, access the memories._

She concentrated, tried to think of anything she could tie his voice to.

He was a soldier...an officer.

American? She could see blond hair, a broad frame. A baseball cap from some team from his hometown...he was always watching recorded games during downtime, yelling at the screen like it was live...

A flash of him arguing with Nakajima, shouting something in his accented Japanese, towering over her but she held all the real power in her icy expression...

He wasn’t a friend, not really, but...an ally? More trustworthy than Nakajima, at least.

Drinking in the pilot’s lounge after a grueling 14 hours in battle, he called Kadoyuki over, awkwardly ruffled his hair.

_You did good out there, kid._

_Marshall…_ Ayase said, _“He’s...Nick Marshall. Head of...operations? I think?_

_Yeah, that’s him,_ Kadoyuki replied. _It’s a good start… We’re connecting, but it’s still shallow. Need to go deeper. I think...you’re trying too hard to focus, holding on too tight. Need to let go. It’s called “Drift” for a reason…_

_Okay…_ she replied. _Okay. Letting go...letting go._ She tried to relax, but as always, focusing on relaxation made it slip further and further away. The things she usually did when her mind was moving too fast and she felt like she was losing control--deep breaths, unclenching muscles--were all so physical, and she couldn’t grasp them in this strange space.

She managed to make the room around them fade, but as soon as the floor disappeared a spike of panic ran through her. She didn’t want to go back to that emptiness, seeing nothing, hearing nothing, feeling nothing...

_I’ve got you, I’ve got you, don’t worry…_ she felt his mind press back, almost a physical presence. _Here...try to show me something. A memory. Anything from your life._

She drifted for another few moments, struggling to grasp anything concrete. Her bedroom last night, staring at the ceiling...but that was too new, too wrapped up in her current anxiety to make it easy to focus on. Her old bedroom back at the academy...but days and nights there blurred together, left her nothing solid to grasp…

_“If there's something in your head you're embarrassed about, or ashamed of…it's probably coming out.”_

Finally, she landed--lying in bed, unable to sleep, her roommate snoring gently across the room. Remembering the health book she’d been looking at, the diagram of female anatomy. Scowling at the darkness as she slipped a hand inside her pajama pants, determined to figure out how to give herself release from the tension and pointless thoughts that had been distracting her for days. Lying back, closing her eyes, probing hesitantly between her legs--

She jerked away from the memory and for a moment landed back in her body, feeling her face go red and hot.

She still felt Kadoyuki’s presence around her, though. She could feel his thoughts wrapping around her mind.

_It’s okay...no shame, everyone does it, it’s normal, it’s fine._

She followed the words into a bedroom with robot posters on the walls. Looking at the porn manga he’d...well... _borrowed_ out of an older cousin’s room, and he knew, he knew that _she_ would know all about this soon, she’d be in his head again, there’d be anger and disgust and he’d be _wrong_ , he was always wrong, but for now he was moving his hand faster, trying to pretend he was the man in the picture and ignore the ghostly memory of hands on the breasts he didn’t have--

This time, Kadoyuki was the one who flinched away. A glimpse of a woman--she looked like Kadoyuki only decades older--and Ayase was looking up at her from the skewed perspective of a child, watching so, so carefully to see what she’d do. He never knew if she’d want to hug or slap, if she was going to cry or scream or hold him close and say she was sorry, she loved him, she didn’t mean it, she never meant it. But behind that, she could feel the echoes from time spent linked mind-to-mind--

_What kind of child thinks things like that?_

_Why can’t you be normal?_

_A normal child wouldn’t hurt his own mother like this._

_I never wanted you, anyway._

_You can’t hide from me. I know what you really are._

Ayase could feel a yawning abyss opening up below her in Kadoyuki’s mind. She felt him scrambling-- _sorry, I’m sorry, didn’t want to bring you here, mind’s so different from Sachi...find Sachi FIND SACHI!_

He yanked her away from the darkness and into a new memory--and he was kissing Sachi’s jaw, pulling him down onto his bed. Sachi tried to say something--“Are you sure--?” but he was cut off as Kado pressed their mouths together, and as he fell back onto the mattress he let his lips part with a soft moan, which was all the encouragement Sachi needed. He knew it was a bad idea, Sachi probably knew that too (he’d confirm it later), but for now Kado was sick of doing the right thing and following orders so he didn’t even hesitate as his hand trailed down toward the button of Sachi’s pants--

_Of course my traitor brain goes right to the sex parts,_ she heard him think, and their mutual embarrassment was tinged with laughter, a little off-kilter but kind and understanding. That thought brought her back to the compatibility test just one day earlier, the staring contest, and she saw herself through Kadoyuki’s eyes. She could feel the doubt as he watched her, not doubting her but doubting himself, his methods, the idea that there could be a third partner for him after he’d ruined two others. The moment when he saw what he was looking for, the connection and understanding without words, with only the tiniest prompting. Once she left, he’d read her file over again, read the loneliness between the lines. Maybe…

Maybe this could work.

_I_ **_am_ ** _lonely,_ Ayase admitted before she could stop herself, more an ache than words.

Then, tentative, like a wisp of smoke, he replied…

_Can’t be lonely in here._

 

“Red Ranger Flash, can you respond?”

“Yes,” they answered in perfect unison, and it felt like the most natural thing in the world.

They ran through some basic exercises--move one limb, then another, then both arms or both legs in unison. Ready one weapon, put it away and ready another, get used to using their physical controls at the same time as the mental link. Through the whole exercise, Ayase kept seeing flashes of memories--both hers and Kadoyuki’s--and after a while, it became hard to remember which ones were hers, if it even mattered.

_Sitting in a classroom, taking notes but drawing in the margins--_

_Grab my arm, hot breath in my face, “I know you took it, don’t lie to me--”_

_Tiptoe past the doorway, if I’m quiet enough they won’t know I’m gone--_

_Watch the news, another attack, fear and anticipation coiled in my gut--_

An alarm went off in the hangar, red lights flashing and sirens overlapping through the external speakers and over the comms. They could hear a rushed conversation up in the control booth.

“One Kaiju reported, but it’s still far out at sea. Scheherazade and Sudden Death Overtime are heading out, White Tiger’s on standby.”

“Should we call off the test for now?”

“No, we need Red Ranger in fighting shape as soon as possible. I still want to get them walking today, we’ll just keep them out of the way.”

“Red,” Nick Marshall directed to them, “are you ready to try some walking?”

“I’m ready,” they said together.

“Got it. Prepare for launch.”

A robotic voice counted down, then they were moving, the massive bay doors opening to let them out into the early morning sunlight. They stood stock still for a few moments, soaking in the view of the whole port stretched out below them, tiny and fragile-looking from their vantage point in the huge metal warrior.

Then, so slowly, they started to tip over.

_Shit, shit shit shit what do I do?!_ Ayase screamed internally.

_Its legs are your legs, you have to feel them--here, I’ll--oh fuck--!_

They crashed hard to the ground, their fall only slightly cushioned by the robot’s left arm that Kadoyuki had managed to fling out at the last second. Ayase jolted back into her body again, just in time to feel the harness straps dig into her shoulders and thighs, catching her weight.

Once the robot settled around her, she could hear snickering over the comms. From where she hung suspended above him, she could just make out Kadoyuki giving the middle finger to the camera.

“You guys all right?” someone asked.

“Mm,” Kadoyuki said. Ayase just grunted.

_Lost it, dammit,_ she heard Kadoyuki say in her mind. It sounded much quieter and farther away than before. She tried to grasp their connection again, mentally reaching out.

_Maybe we can do it without the jerk-off memories this time…_ she thought wryly. Though she couldn’t see his face, she could tell he was blushing hard.

After a moment, she actually felt him pull himself back together, which she figured was a good sign that they were connecting again.

_Okay...so the reason we can’t feel our bodies during the drift...is that the_ **_robot_ ** _is supposed to be our body. Not like the tests before, where we had to think about how to move, but like how you can run or jump or throw a punch and your brain just knows what to make your body do automatically._

_Thing is, it usually takes a lot of practice--_

“Red Ranger Flash...status, **now.** Is there a problem? If you don’t reply, we’re gonna call for evac--”

“It’s fine,” they replied in unison again.

“Answer the comms, will you? And are you planning to lie there all day?”

“One minute…”

_It usually takes practice…_ Ayase replied thoughtfully, _but_ **_you_ ** _know what to do, right?_

_Yeah._ A flash of countless past battles, too fast to grasp any single one.

_So maybe I can pull up that info myself, like I did before with Marshall._

_Huh...might work._

Ayase tried to clear her mind of unnecessary thoughts and let herself fall deeper into their connection.

This was what she’d always wanted…a way to be more than a weak, breakable person. More than the scared little boy--girl?--she felt like most of the time. She grabbed onto that feeling, let her awareness grow to fill the biggest space it could. She felt herself _expand._

She could feel the sand shifting under her knees and left hand. Felt her joints whir as mechanical parts moved under her armored metal skin. Their right arm moved down to join the left on the ground, and in one fluid motion pushed off into a kneel, then back to standing.

They took their first tentative step along the beach, then a second, then they were strolling along, then running. They extended their sword, then started going through their (Ayase’s?) favorite kata from combat class, just for the sheer joy of moving as an enormous robot, of feeling the steps and swings with tons and tons of extra weight behind them. They could vaguely hear chatter over the comms, and at one point someone even cheered.

“Nice work, kids,” they heard Nick Marshall say in their ears. “Let’s bring it inside--”

Before he could finish, alarms blared over the comms.

“Scheherazade's been hit! Shields at 45%, speed at 15--

“Pilot vitals are spiking--they need extraction, now!”

“Shit, the Kaiju got past them!”

“It’s headed for the base! White Tiger, intercept!

“They’re too far out--”

“Red,” Nick Marshall’s voice cut through the chatter, calm but serious. “Think you can hold it off? We don’t need you to beat it, just keep it away from the base until White Tiger gets there.”

A spike of fear drove through them. They weren’t ready, _they weren’t ready--_

_She wasn’t ready to face it again._

Ayase felt her human body going into overdrive. She could hear her heart beating in her ears, feel herself breathing too fast. She kind of wanted to puke.

But before panic could break their connection, she felt a surge of confidence shore her up. They were Red Ranger Flash.

A jaeger.

A mecha.

A goddamn hero fighting to protect the human race.

They were strong, and fast, and they (he?) knew what to do. No monster would get past them today.

And underneath the dizzying high of being an _actual real life superhero,_ there was one quiet image that cut through it all: Sachi, in his hospital bed, small and breakable and defenseless. There was no way he'd evacuate in time.

“Got it,” they said in unison as they readied their weapon and strode out to sea.


End file.
